Where the Clouds Roll By
by Ishvalan Alchemist
Summary: Bulma and Gohan are captured by Vegeta. Bulma must prove that she is worth the life she'd been spared while the prince of saiyans struggles to continue under the dominion of Lord Frieza. Set at the beginning of DBZ. Bulma/Vegeta- Large storyline.
1. Chapter I: Abduction

Where the Clouds Roll By

Author's Note: Finally, I've picked this one up again, lol. Please Read and Review, thanks! :]

Chapter I: Abduction

A two-seater hovercraft sped down the grassy slope on the outskirts of a smoking and smoldering city. If it wasn't weaving in and out of the brush, the CC of Capsule Corp. could be read on the vehicle's metallic fender. Trees, rock, and the ground itself was being obliterated as power-beams missed their fleeing target.

Bulma grit her teeth and let the taste of her tears trickle to her mouth. She whipped the steering-wheel left and drifted around a large cluster of boulders that soon after exploded. The blue haired driver slapped the thruster with a natural ease and the hovercraft leapt over a cleft in the ground. Her eyes left the dirt road for a moment to glance at the small, sleeping boy sitting shotgun. Bulma felt her chest tighten with panic, but shook herself and lurched the hovercraft straight down the slope into the trees. The abrupt change in direction gave her some small distance from her pursuer. Bulma smiled as the craft reached the trees, _I'll lose them in here._

An unnaturally bright light filled the world.

"Ah!" Bulma screamed and her hands involuntarily shot to her face, her eyes burned as if they had grazed the sun. The hovercraft tilted to the side and tipped nose down. Beeps and alarms of warning erupted from the dash, but all hover capability was lost. The small vehicle scrapped along the dirt and rock and came to a rough, whip-lashing stop.

Everything was still –almost tranquil. That brief moment was ended by Bulma's groaning. Her eyes were pinched shut, she did a quick check to find that she was unharmed and began to reach over to the child next to her, but shadow consumed her sight and her eyelids cracked open a bit and then widened.

A large figure stood in front of her. Bulma didn't need to stand next to him to see that he'd tower over her even at a few feet distance. His legs were thick as tree trunks and his chest would put any man to an effeminate shame. Her pursuer was wearing a strange elastic-like armor and boots, there was a uniqueness about its design. His head was bald and he sported a pencil thin mustache that sat atop a gruesome smile. Although his form pushed the definition of _human_ he had all the features that would make him so; except for one thing. Wrapped around his broad waist was a brown furred tail and he was in fact _alien. _A saiyan.

The hulking being triumphantly looked down at his prize. He leaned forward and grabbed at the hood of the vehicle, tearing it away like a wrapper.

Bulma backed from him and noticed the forest that once sat on the western edge of the city was now leveled. She snatched the sleeping boy from his passenger seat, tucked him into his chest and sunk back into her own seat, never removing her gaze from their captor.

"Get out of the vessel, earthling." he commanded. Bulma made no such move and needing little provocation, the alien reached in and grabbed at her.

"Leave me alone!" she screamed, ferocity and fear filled her body. She tried to push back the saiyan's giant paw, but he plucked her out of the hovercraft by the blouse. Bulma held onto the child with one hand and reached back at the driver's door of the vehicle, pulling out a silver pistol with the other. She shoved the muzzle into the saiyan's breastplate and fired several times. With each click, a flare of light and the electric buzz of plasma erupted from the business end of the gun. Bulma continued to pull the trigger though the pistol was beyond its limit of consecutive rounds and had begun to overheat. Her arm was tense and her body shook with adrenalin. She looked up at her abductor and dropped the weapon. He was unharmed and armor only lightly besmirched.

"Hahaha, well, are you done?" The large alien shook her a bit and watched her head droop in semi-defeat. Bulma wrapped her arms around the still sleeping child as the saiyan wrapped his monstrous arm around her.

_I've got to keep trying. _Bulma thought as the saiyan leapt into the air and shot over the desolation and toward the horizon. She shut her eyes as they quickly dried from the inhuman speed of their flight. _You charged me with the safety of your son, Goku. Please hurry. _Bulma had only met the child a day ago on Roshi's island, but she'd known his father for years. Peeling her eyes a bit she peeked down at the child in her arms. _Gohan, I will do my best. I'm not as strong as your father, no where near, but as long as my strength will stand, I will keep you safe. _

After only a few minutes of flying she was dropped to the ground with a thud. Bulma opened her eyes again and made to stand up, but her knees gave way at the sight before her.

Perched atop a low hill was a massive construction. With all of the engineering experience Bulma had, with all the life changing inventions her and her father had accomplished over the years, the sight of the SSJ, the saiyan's spaceship –no, battleship struck her with awe as she beheld it.

The ship was shielded by an amazing chrome exterior that shone under the setting sun in an other-worldly mint green. Hexagonal windows bordered the lower half like a dark jade girdle of precious jewels. Encrusting the top of the vessel was the circlet of a sterling cockpit and skylight. Small, large and medium ports were fitted beneath the girdle, some with and some without ships. Three sturdy legs held the body upright and in the central point of the mass, sprouting forth like a venomous tongue, was a deep green metallic staircase that led into a black mouth completing this extraterrestrial ship. The SSJ looked as if it could carry the moon on it's back.

Nappa smiled at Bulma's expression. "Many of our adversaries _and_ allies think we saiyans are as thick as our skin" he grunted. "But to misconceive the might of a saiyan –" Nappa cut himself short as two bright lights appeared on the horizon approaching them.

Bulma's heart raced as the two came into view. One was a somewhat short saiyan with a wicked flame of raven black hair. The other called himself "Goku's brother", Raditz. Nappa knelt before them as they landed. "Prince." he spoke with reverence.

"May I take my leave for the Rejuvenation Tanks, my liege?" Raditz asked. The shorter one nodded and Raditz bowed and headed toward the ship. Bulma noticed that he was seriously wounded and spotted the circle of shattered armor around his abdomen. The scene flashed before her again.

_ Goku was on the ground and Raditz was crushing his chest. Piccolo was injured and trying to regrow his left arm. Bulma had a sickening feeling in her stomach while watching from a distance, as if someone was crushing her as well. CRACK! Bulma gasped as she though Goku's chest had given in, but it came from the alien's space-pod. And out jumped Gohan, he landed with such grace and accuracy no child his age should have. Bulma wondered what the saiyan's eye-piece was telling him as he now gave his full attention to the boy. With a sudden roar of anger, Gohan drew forth a bright red aura and dashed at his father's assailant. Bulma couldn't keep her eyes on the child, his speed was incredible! But she saw that Gohan's aim was true and Raditz suffered the headbutt in his chest, his armor had done little to save him. The saiyan staggered back, removing his boot from his younger brother. Raditz mouth moved, but was silent. As he backed from the boy and his father he found his breath and said "K... K... Kakar –"_

"Kakarot and the green one are dead." Said this saiyan prince. Bulma was shocked back to the present. "Raditz and I were met with a few of this planets fighters afterward as well, but they are done and –"

"How dare you!" Bulma screamed as tears welled and flowed unhindered down her cheeks. _Yamcha was among that group._ Her heart felt like it was just gouged out and crushed under the heel of this saiyan "prince". "How could you kill them! How could you kill _him!"_

Nappa whipped around at her and lifted his hand to smack her. "How dare _you _talk to Prince Vegeta that way, wench!" But the hulking saiyan was silenced and quelled by just a raised hand of the prince. Vegeta turned his gaze on the woman and approached her, there was no expression on his face only a small flash of knowing behind his eyes.

Bulma, who was still sitting on the ground, tried to pull the sleeping Gohan closer to her, but her body seemed weakened by this devastating news. Once the saiyan stood over her, he bent down and grabbed her chin with one gloved hand. Bulma flinched and tried to pull back, but he held her there. "Do you want to know the best part?" Bulma looked down. Vegeta shook her, making her meet his eyes and continued speaking once she did. "As I was pulling his head from his shoulders, the weakling didn't even call out _your_ name."  
Bulma let out a strained cry and saw the unfeeling, cold, naked hatred that poured through his eyes from the very root of his soul. Vegeta threw her to the ground and turned from them.

"This planet is ready for the market. Make sure to have it documented and Frieza notified before we get to deep space" the prince spoke and walked toward the ship. "I am retiring to my quarters and I expect to have the Training Chambers prepared." Vegeta looked back at the girl. "This pathetic planet did not provide the 'sport' I was hoping to find."

Nappa bowed and before Prince Vegeta left them, he said. "And my liege, what will you have me do with the scientist and the boy?"

Without turning his back or slowing his stride, Vegeta answered. "Throw them in the soldier's messdeck." Nappa nodded and smiled.

Bulma was still lying on the ground. Blackness danced in her sight from the impact, but among all the other emotions that were crashing against the eroding shores of her being, one thought –one fact still remained. ..._everyone but this boy in my arms is dead... yet I am still alive. _Bulma let the small weight in her arms be a reminder of this. She parted her lips and whispered "We are still alive."

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	2. Chapter II: Thick and Thunderous

Where the Clouds Roll By

Chapter II: Thick and Thunderous

A/N: This was a fun chapter to write. I dropped a couple 'Game of Thrones' allusions in there for any fans out there, lol. Hope you enjoy! :P

The large hallways inside the SSJ weren't as grand as it's exterior. There were pewter engravings on the top and bottom borders of the walls. The halls held an air of sanitation and looked it as the walls, doors, and ceilings were stark white aside from the etchings. Most of the doors slid automatically and some had keypads for pass codes. Other than that, this level of the ship was bare... clean, but bare.

As Nappa lead their newest captors towards this 'messdeck', Bulma's eyes took in as much detail of the ship and it's workings as she could. Although she was physically and emotionally exhausted, she wasn't going back down, oh no, her resolve had been tested through many trials and temptations while out on her excursions with Goku and the gang. Bulma bit her lip and stifled the want to cry. _I've shed enough tears for now, _she thought, _they will have to earn them. _She didn't know what they wanted of her, but as Nappa had referred to her as 'the scientist', she figured it had something to do with her intellect.

The trio was met with a few passerby on their way. _So the saiyans work alongside other races do they? _Bulma noticed as two completely different looking aliens were busy discussing the information one of them held on a digital clipboard. One was of medium height and orange, he had an elongated head; and the other was short, stout, and human-like, just Lima-bean green. They were wearing khaki colored jumpers.

"Yes, but I think we should prepare the desserts and soups for the feast before we reach the asteroid belt. There's nothing but turbulence for several hours afterward and the appliances can be faulty." Said Longhead.

"I'll alert the servants to begin prep immediately." Lima-bean nodded in agreement. "We're about to pass through the mesosphere, they should be ready once we fully depart from this planet's atmosphere." And with that the two separated and went their ways. Longhead was following Nappa.

"We've already begun to ascend?" Bulma looked up at Nappa. She moved Gohan's position to her hip to relieve her arms a bit.

"Yes." Nappa replied as he stuck out his hand to stop her in front of an entryway. He pressed in the pass code combo and waited.

"I can't even feel the ship's propulsion." Bulma said quietly to herself, her thought had been distracted by the multi-digit password the large saiyan just used.

"This ship is large enough to be fitted with an anti-gravity generator." It was the Longhead who heard her and answered.

"And it's about time they get the damned thing replaced." Nappa spoke. "I'm tired of my food flying off before I can even get seated."

"Yes, I will pass on your command to the engineers, sir." Longhead replied

The white door slid open smoothly and Bulma noticed that it was actually a two way elevator. They stepped inside. It shut and descended quickly. Bulma caught Longhead eying her with something of a nervous look on his face. The elevator stopped and both doors opened. The orange alien exited one and Nappa pushed them out of the other.

This level of the ship was nothing like the previous. The walls were littered with hand prints from both dirt and blood, as well as scorch marks, dents, and punctures. Muddy boot prints crisscrossed all over the floor. Worst of all, it stank of a humungous locker room or zoo.

Bulma felt a nervous sweat collect on the small of her back as they continued down the hall. In her gut she knew they were very near to their destination, and from the state of the passageway, it wasn't going to be a royal suite.

Deciding that the silent walk down what felt like the "green mile" was a bit much, Bulma made an attempt at conversation. "So... was your conquering of Chikyuu worth a feast or is there some special occasion?"

"Hm?" Nappa glanced down at her as if the question needed time to register. "Oh, no." he chuckled. "Your planet is hardly worth the buck some dumb bidder will pay for it, but it was the last mission of the SSJ's sixth tour. It's been a four year trek, but we're finally heading to home." The big brute sighed, it was a most human action. Bulma looked up at him to see his eyes afar off and she wondered what could cause this ruthless creature to be so nostalgic.

"That damned Jora, the fool. He'll owe me more than he has." Nappa's eyes glimmered as he recalled some half-forgotten debt. "...And I cant forget the interest, ha!"

They reached the tattered door at the end of the hall. Nappa punched the keypad. Bulma kindly noted that it was indeed the same pass-code he used on the other door. Her lips drew a short-lived smile.

The dirt splattered door opened, the grime in its tracks caused a grinding sound as it slid. Laughter, foul words, the clatter of utensils, and all the other filler noise of a rambunctious group came to an immediate stop as the door revealed its contents.

Nappa looked at Bulma and he nearly _glowed_ with mirth. That same glimmer in his eyes. "You are to wait here. Once they decide what to do with you two, they will send for you." Nappa turned to leave then glanced back. "It'd do you good to keep that mouth shut."

The door closed and she and Gohan were abandoned. Tossed to the several dozen pair of eyes that had something not unlike the gleam in a wolf's gaze. Bulma slowly spun around feeling naked and vulnerable under the heavy silence.

Rows of tables filled most of the long room and it was at the tables that the majority of the saiyans sat. Scraps and bones, remnants of a meal were left on their trays, but there was an undeniably hungry look plain on their faces.

Bulma spotted a few empty seats along the outer rim, on the other side of the room. She was hopping if she just ignored the dirty looks from the female saiyans and avoided getting too close to the males, she and Gohan would make it to the back without a hitch. She was wrong.

Bulma took a step toward the tables. _One foot in front of the other._ Her arms began to cramp as the child's weight was well beyond burdensome by then. She was in between two tables –halfway there, when something fuzzy clasped her right thigh. Bulma froze and tipped her head to find a brown tail wrapped around her leg. It belonged to a large, mop-headed saiyan with a massive chest and belly to match.

"Lets sit that pretty rump on ol' Lyrio's lap, hm?" The soldier picked up the frighten woman's by the waist and set her on his thigh.

Now, Bulma was a lot of things. First, and foremost, she was gifted –a genius, tied for second she was a maker of mischief and a brat, but even among the "qualities" unlisted, she was not anyone's _pet_ nor would she put up with womanizing, by alien or otherwise.

Bulma whipped her upper body around and slapped the saiyan. "Keep those grimy paws _off_ of me!" She screamed.

A brief look of astonishment spread across Lyrio's face. She jumped from his lap, but the saiyan regained some composure. "You ugly whore!" He snatched Bulma's blouse and it tore away from her body as if it were tissue paper.

Up until then, the messdeck had still been silent. Everyone watched Lyrio attempt to take first dibs on their newest playmate. But when the last bit of Bulma's blouse fell unceremoniously to the ground revealing a salmon colored cami underneath, it was as if the gods had suddenly injected the saiyans with the fiery lust of a bull in heat.

And every dimension of hell broke loose.

Trays were flying, some tables were upturned, Lyrio handsomely donned a black eye and fat lip, and Bulma was pulled down by her ankle. The blue haired woman sat momentarily stunned, her breathing rough. She heard grunts and hollers calling for her from her spot under the table. Bulma turned and saw who had her ankle. It was a gruesome, wiry little saiyan, well little by saiyan standards.

"And look at you my pretty thing. What treasures we can find at the foot of soldiers!" The alien pulled her closer to him by her leg.

"Ew! Back off you slime-ball!" Bulma tried to push him with both her hands and that was when she realized Gohan was no longer with her. Fear and anger filled the woman and she drew back her foot and slammed it into the saiyans chin. He released Bulma and she crawled crab-style away from him. She saw a tanned saiyan reach under the table and pull the wiry one out by the hair. "Guntak, what the _hell _do you think you're doing with her? She's mine!" the tanned saiyan punched Guntak and they engaged, fists and flesh.

Bulma took the opportunity and flipped over to her hands and knees. "Gohan!... Gohan!" she called for her friends son, her ward. "Go-" Yet again she was yanked by a pair of strong hands. This time it was a female.

"You are causing too much trouble for such a pathetic being, you're coming with me." The female was on the outskirts of the thick and thunderous brawl. She dragged Bulma toward a couple of empty seats.

"Wait!" Bulma cried. "I need to find the boy, I need to find –"

The female saiyan slapped her across the cheek. "Be quiet! It'd probably be best if he were just trampled."

"Inova!" Bulma cringed as she had already committed that voice to memory. She could see that Guntak stood behind the female saiyan, Inova. He sped at her and punched her in the back.

Inova howled and collapsed to the ground. Bulma saw the blank stare in the females eyes and wondered if...

"I see now that you are a well sought after little prize."

Bulma noticed the fresh bruises on Guntak's arms and a pair of black eyes. In those eyes was an eerie vacancy. Guntak seized her by the neck and lifted the woman with her back against the wall. "It is a sad thing, maybe, but I will be the last one to caress my pretty."

Bulma felt the mad saiyan crush her wind pipes. Her lungs fought to expend their air and her eyes fought to keep the black from taking her sight.

"In the next dimension, my love, we will be together." Guntak raised his other hand which was forming a purple ball of ki. "Close those pretty blue –"

The saiyans face lost all expression and he lost his grip of Bulma. The ki ball dissipated. Guntak stumbled then fell forward. There was a black hole in his back and the air filled with the smell of charred flesh.

Bulma gulped the air until she regained some bit of calm. When she looked up she saw Gohan standing a few yards from Guntak's back. His arms were still raised in front of him and an aura was slowly fading from him. The messdeck was once again silent.

"Buma?" the little half-breed spoke.

"Oh, Gohan." Bulma scrambled over to him and took him up in her arms and hugged him. She looked out over his shoulder and saw that not one pair of eyes were on her, but on the child in her grasp. Blue in the face became very literal for some of the saiyan onlookers, Lyrio was one of them.

The shock of the group was broken by the entry door grinding open. Bulma glanced toward the man who entered and her heart leapt. "Goku?" she asked, audible among the silence.

The saiyan looked for the owner of the small voice and found her sitting on the floor in the corner with a child in her arms. He turned his gaze back to the soldiers. "You are gone from home a few years and you act like savages. This is nothing but shameful! I want this compartment _immaculate_ for the feast tonight!" He ordered. "And not another one of will lay so much as a lustful thought on this woman again, or so help me, I'll decorate the nearest planet with your blood!"

The room was busy once more.

The saiyan approached the woman and bent down besides her. "I'm sorry I know my son, Kakarot –Goku took after me, but I am his father, Bardock." he offered her a hand to help her up. Bulma took it.

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	3. Chapter III: Our Grandfathers

Chapter III: Our Grandfathers

A/N: I'm having tons of fun with this fic right now. Let me know what you think. Thanks and enjoy! :]

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"Papa?" It was Gohan's turn to break the silence as they walked down the stark halls for the second time on that long day.

There was brief moment then Bulma spoke. "No, Gohan, your dad isn't here."

"Then who is he? He looks like papa." The boy of four was walking along side the two adults.

Bardock stopped and knelt by the hybrid. "I am your commanding officer." He ruffled the child's hair and stood back up. Gohan wrinkled his brow a bit, but kept silent as they continued on.

"How did the two of you end up in the messdeck? I don't believe it was by accident, was it?" Bardock asked, glancing at Bulma.

"No." The blue haired woman answered. She was so tired and felt as if she'd left her last ounce of strength back in that room. "The prince ordered Nappa to leave us there." A thin line form on the saiyan's lips. He looked ahead and they moved on quietly.

Bulma noticed that they had been traveling back up the ship, even higher than the entry hallway. Once they entered the medical wing, the passageways seemed to be alive again. Everyone was clad in a deep blue garment.

They stopped at the opening of a large room. It was filled with every sort of examination device imaginable _and _unimaginable. The occupants of the room seemed to hustle once the trio had arrived.

"I don't want to give you any false hope." Bardock turned to Bulma. "Once you've been released from medical, my superiors will want proof of your worth." There was a seriousness in his voice. "I don't know who vouched for you back on your planet, but it was only enough to get you this far. It is up to you to earn the right for life on the Prince's ship. Do you understand?"

Bulma slowly nodded. Her head spun from fear of this expectation.

"The boy, on the other hand, has caught the interest of many here, being a halfbreed; so I wouldn't worry about him. Let this be of some solace to you, he will most likely be training once he clears medically. He will be in strong hands." Bardock looked down at the child. "For the first few days I will try to check in on you as a payment for watching over my... kin."

Bulma felt emotions well up as she was now at a crossroad, although a small one, and her only anchor to Chikyuu was not able to take the same path; it was slightly devastating. Bulma knelt by the boy, he gave her a quick hug. "Go along now, Gohan. Show them all that your dad taught you. This guy will take care of you, ok? He is your grandpa, after all."

"Grandpa?" Gohan's eyes lit up as he looked at Bardock. "Hi, Grandpa!" The child patted the large saiyan's leg as if it were some sort of greeting. Bardock turned and led the boy away. Some shadow of a smile on his face.

* * *

"And what shall we call _you_?" A blue clad, purple-skinned, beaked alien asked Bulma. His globe-like eyes were bright and somehow Bulma figured he was grinning, at least the tone of his voice seemed to say so.

"Um, well, my name is Bulma Briefs." she answered the... doctor?

The beaked alien clapped his hands excitedly. "Ok, Ms. Briefs, I am Targil. I'll be conducting your tests today and will evaluate you based on those results." He stepped up close to Bulma. "This is when we decide whether you should live beyond this day or not, you know, we don't really want any liabilities walking out from our hands and under the employment of the saiyans only to have them drop dead the day after!" Targil whispered in a very confidential manner. "But don't you worry! No, no, no, Targil knows his craft well!" He placed a hand on Bulma's shoulder and walked her over to a rolling storage cabinet. "If you could just change into these." Purple hands shoved a pair of white boots and a yellow spandex suit into Bulma's.

The young woman looked up. Targil looked back at her expectantly. Just then a bosomy, female saiyan pushed by and Bulma remembered.

"Hey, Targil, there is a saiyan who was injured in the messdeck... I don't know if she's still alive, but her name is Inova –I think." Bulma watched the beaked one hop into action.

"Oh, oh! We will check into that immediately!" Targil sped away toward a throng of doctors or nurses.

Bulma looked around the large medical room. There were screens spread around the outer rim on the walls, they displayed self-adjusting 3D graphs, tables of data, and charts . Machines varying from the size of a pencil sharpener to an enormous industrial freezer were scattered about. And probably something close to three dozen blue clothed workers buzzed back and forth between each other and their machines in preparation for their newest arrivals.

Although this was a habitat similar to those of her past, there did not appear to be any changing rooms. Bulma sighed. _Well, I'm sure they'll be examining every inch of me anyways. _She set her new garb on the cabinet and began to change.

It'd taken a few hours before she'd gone through all of the tests in the medical room. Once they were completed, Targil handed her a digital notebook and told her she had another set of examinations to do, but after that, she'd be given their assessment. If they deemed her worthy of proving her worth, she'd have a hot meal and warm bed waiting.

"Hand this document to anyone down in the next room and they will know what to do with you." Targil said and shooed her along. "You will see me shortly after you're done, kk!" Bulma headed out of the great room and down the white halls with her nose deep into her digital notebook. She was eager to find out what her charts had to say about her 'state-of-health'.

Bulma was able to fight through her increasing desire for sleep by occupying her brain. The language the doctors used for collecting data seemed to be the same on the rest of the ship, it was universal. By the end of her first round of tests, she was able to understand several medical terms and all of their numerals.

She swiped the digital notebook. _A few things caught their eye._ She noticed some results were circled or underlined or had large question marks next to them. _They appear interested in –_

"Ah!" Bulma hit a wall and fell backwards on her bottom. Two notebooks clatter to the ground. It was no wall she'd walked into.

"Pick it up!" It was the prince.

Bulma looked up. Vegeta's glare struck her like a viscous backhand, she flinched and froze. A doe meeting eyes with the wolf that had seen her all along.

"You dare make a prince repeat himself?" the saiyan growled. Bulma shook herself free from the terror of his gaze. On hands and knees, she reached forward for the two notebooks. Her fingers barely grasped them when a boot stomped down.

"Ow!" Bulma yelped. Vegeta knelt to her level, his weight crushing her hand. Blue eyes flashed up to the black ones.

"Cross my path again and I'll toss you to dogs that no man can save you from." The prince stood up, but his foot remained.

Bulma pulled her fingers from under him. The skin on her knuckles pulled and tore as she grabbed the notebook. Her hand bled; dripping onto such a clean, white floor.

She got up and handed over his notebook without facing him. He snatched the two and began to flip through her charts. Bulma glanced at him sidelong. Vegeta's eyes fell onto the same spots that she had just moments ago.

"Hmph." Was his verdict. He tossed it at her feet and turned down the hall.

Bulma cursed the back of the being that, in such a short time, she'd come to loath. Tears rolled over her pink cheeks as she picked up her notebook and ran to the next medical room.

A doctor bandaged her hand. The somewhat exasperated look on his face seemed to say 'Could they wait to for a patient to be dismissed before they start assaulting them?' The tall, thin alien led her to a gigantic machine that was not unlike the CT (or cat) scan machines on Chikyuu.

Bulma removed her earrings and was told to lay down on the lightly cushioned table. She did so. As she slid back into the tunnel, the doctor asked her to relax and close her eyes. The gentle thrum of the machine began, a cool air blew over her body, physically she was at peace, but once her lids shut over her blue eyes, she saw the blackness embedded in her mind. Her heart pounded, she kept them open.

* * *

"Here's to another successful tour under the leadership of our great prince!" A tall, brawny saiyan lifted his goblet in honor of his liege. Ale splattered onto the table. Others followed and cheered or voiced their appreciation. The saiyan elites were seated around a large circular table in a room separate from and far nicer than the messdeck. Such a delectable spread was lain before them. Roasted pork, broiled steaks, battered fowl, and well-seasoned fish were among the meats. Dishes of steamed or sauteed vegetables were placed in between as well as wide saucers of gravies and meat drippings. The bowls of soup had already been devoured and the loaves of bread were being passed around and torn apart by hand. If Chikyuu was worth anything, all the saiyans would agree, it was in their variety and bounty of foods. It would have been a shameful crime not to enjoy the spoils of victory as soon as possible.

Servants were in and out of the dining room, they kept the ale topped off and the plates full. Those in the messdeck and even the lowest rung of inhabitants on the SSJ were eating well.

"I can't wait to see the look on Frieza's men when we hand his Lordship the deed to district 5. To take on an entire district in under _seven_ years would have been a feat, but _four_? And without any casualties!" The brawny saiyan took a swig of his ale.

"Well, Dothra, we did lose one." said a dark-skinned, solemn saiyan.

"Pfft, he was a low level. Although, that kid nearly put you out of your misery, eh, Raditz?" Dothra whipped foam from his mouth and chuckled. "How old was he? _Two?"_

_ "_Shut your mouth! You know very well that my power level exceeds yours. Do not make me remind you, _again." _ Raditz shot back.

Vegeta ate in deep contemplation as his elite officers bickered and drank and enjoyed their meal. They'd earned it. Four years wasn't a dreadfully long time, not at all, but tour after tour nearly back to back was exhausting. It wasn't as though the taste of battle and victory had become bitter to their tongues, no. You cannot maintain sanity being in the black of space on a ship even one as large as the SSJ. Their home Vegetasei, was where they needed to anchor for a while. The prince sipped from his goblet. _We never get more than a month at home before we are commanded to depart again._ _Purging planet after planet only to claim it for another while my father is a toady for that 'galactic overlord'. _Vegeta set down his drink. It angered him to think of his father as a bootlick, but his father's actions weren't... kingly.

Since he could remember, Vegeta had been apart of the SSJ's crew, out on missions for the Planet Trade Organization which Frieza was head over. The ship was his father's until he came of age. Working for the king was no doubt honorable, but what if the king spent _his_ honor on wasteful things?

"What do ya think, prince?" Vegeta looked up at Nappa who had asked a question. "Where'll they send us on the next tour?"

"My guess would be district 9." The prince cleared his throat as his eight elite exchanged surprised glances and brief words. District 9 was in the 'red' zone, a difficult cluster of planets on the far end of the Organization's ever growing domain. "No one, not even Frieza, can deny our power now. As a people, have grown stronger several times over just in our lifetime where it would take any other race _generations." _Vegeta speared a chunk of roast pork with a fork and dipped it into some drippings. He ate the morsel, savoring it's richness. "I believe that things will change during our stay on Vegetasei. I will meet with the king and Lord Frieza once they've arrived. Our advancement will be made known... Gone are the days when lowly races could belittle the saiyans and live to lay their heads down on anything other than their graves."

His men cheered in agreement. This is the path they were needing to take, not one roundabout and full of winding roads. Only a century ago the saiyans were no more than a nomadic group on their planet formerly called Plant. They were united and empowered under the hard and strong hand of Vegeta's grandfather. In that short span of time they had risen to be a power among the galactic empires. Some historians of _other_ races dubbed that span of time as the 'Hundred Year Millennium'. Accomplishing what no race could do in a thousand years, the saiyans did in just a fraction of that time. But it was not to stop here, as some false lord's peon, no!

Vegeta slammed his fist onto the table and looked at each of his men who looked back at their liege. "Now, I know I've been called the 'Prideful Prince' among my men and others." Vegeta stood up from his seat. "But it is in _you, _in my _people_, that I build my pride! We will not be that lizard's footstool for the rest of our lives, I lay my _life_ on that promise!" Vegeta turned from them and left with the vigorous roars of his elite at his back.

* * *

Please Review, thanks! :]


	4. Chapter IV: A Necessity for Anger

Chapter IV: The Necessity of Anger

A/N: Alright, I am spending a little time developing some of the characters. Vegeta and Bulma have had nothing but brief encounters, but their time will come... Hope you enjoy! R/R

PS. This chapter jumps back and forth a bit so beware!

* * *

Boom, boom, boom! Three orange ki balls clashed with a thick wall in the training room. Gohan slid to a stop. He evaded the attacks, but held his breath as another succession came hurdling at him. Boom! One scorched the ground at his feet. The child looked up and saw that the second speeding sphere of ki was well aimed. He leapt sideways. Gohan felt the hair on his arms stand on end, the pure ball of energy skimmed passed. A moment of stillness presented itself and Gohan sighed, wiping the sweat from his brow.

"Stop avoiding combat, boy!" His assailant appeared behind him and backhanded the child across the room. "Where's this _power_ that has the saiyan's yappin'." The alien spat on the ground. He was a hulking, blueish humanoid with four fingers and no visible nose. Grom was his name, he wasn't an actual soldier on the ship, just a deckhand hired for his strength and low race status, but that didn't mean he couldn't fight. "Those apes lost their minds takin' in garbage like this... and a _woman, _ I hear." Grom spoke to himself and watched the boy crawl to a standing position. "Tail or no tail, this kid just ain't got it."

Gohan patted the dust from his clothes feeling unbruised and unthreatened. _I want to go back to sleep. _The child thought as he yawned. After he'd awoken and eaten breakfast, he was given a navy blue, child-size, saiyan spandex suit as well as boots, gloves, and a scouter. He wore everything, but the scouter. "No!" Gohan had shouted to his escort as he was taken down to the training chamber. The first time he'd ever seen one of those devices was on the face of a man sent to take his friends, family, and home away from him. The scouter lay broken at the entrance of the room.

"Lets try this again!" Grom shouted across the room and dashed out of sight.

Gohan, looked to the far end of the chamber where a wall of two-way mirror stood. He sensed two people on the other side; the boy gave attention back to his, not quite lightning-fast, attacker. Gohan launched himself forward into a tumble and escaped a series of jabs and a sweeping kick.

"Dammit, kid!" Grom growled. "Dodgin' me wont do you no good. Hit me!"

"I don't want to!" Gohan shouted back and plopped down on the ground. "I want to go home!" Tears immediately spilled over the his cheeks and sprinkled to his chest. The sobs of a small orphaned boy filled the room.

* * *

Yamcha opened the passenger-side door and helped Bulma out of his compact car. They had arrived at her favorite spot just outside of West City, a huge national park that stretched for dozens of miles west of the metropolis. When she was younger, her parents had made a trip to the park a tradition. They celebrated almost everything there, birthdays, holidays, successful inventions, and so on. This day was the anniversary of Yamcha and Bulma's longest off-again and on-again relationship.

As Bulma stood up she could smell that the trees were thick with the newness of spring. The sounds that drifted on the air was the mingling of dog barks, children's laughter, and trickling of water that seemed to be the endless harmony. Leaves gave applaud under the arms of the wind and Bulma's hair was tossed in its passing. She smiled and turned to Yamcha who smiled at her.

"Your beauty is a thing to sing of." he said lamely.

Bulma knew Yamcha was often shallow, lacking nearly any form of finesse she'd often visualized her soul-mate as possessing, but she didn't care. He loved her and she would love him back 'til the end of time, though the next dimension was outside any idea of time. She knew that she was in the afterlife, Bulma looked up into her boyfriends eyes, because Yamcha was dead and so she must be as well.

The blue haired woman sprung up in her bed. Her ears perked at the rapping on the door of her small compartment. Bulma pulled the sheet from her body and found that she was nearly dripping with sweat. "Yes?" she half-mumbled.

"I am to take you down to the engineering bay to begin your aptitude test. Please get dressed, we will eat on our way." answered a voice.

"Alright, just give me a moment!" Bulma flopped back onto her bed. She was too aware of the pain in her chest caused by the sudden realization that her dream had been just that. Happiness dashed against the rocks of reality. _Though I think I'd classify that as a nightmare._ She brooded, a bitterness began to coat her. But she couldn't deny the fact that waking another day was a sliver of hope. Bulma recalled a segment of Targil's assessment from the previous night.

_"Among other things, we have become very interested in the functionality of the human brain, specifically the synapses between the amygdala, you know, the part that deals with emotions such as fear, anger, love. That cluster –" Targil tapped a purple finger on an X-ray of her brain. " –there is the largest we've seen in any sentient being, even succeeding that of the saiyan. The boy, Gohan, has adopted this feature as well, Mm hm! And so we have decided to further our studies of you two!"_

Bulma sighed and grabbed her olive green jumpsuit. _I'm sure Gohan is training hard..._

"Bulma, now it's your turn to knock these boys off their feet!" She said with her courage renewed.

Upon opening her door she found a human-ish looking man waiting for her; he had pointed ears and a large, exaggerated mustache.

_ "_Here you are Ms. Briefs." He handed her an aluminum packet.

She took it and was reminded of the poptarts back on Chikyuu. She tore it open and found a thick block of biscuit inside. Gritty and dry were her first thoughts as she nibbled a corner, but a sweet aftertaste, not too far off from honey, filled her mouth. Bulma scarffed the rest and said 'fank you' as they headed down the hall.

Bulma was also thankful that her living compartment was located in the medical wing so she didn't have to walk much after her assessment. During her testing she'd overheard a conversation, something about an employee recently _retiring_ from their position after an argument with one of the saiyans. The two apparently came to a 'mutual' agreement and she was given the retiree's old room.

Bulma let her spirit lift from the miry place it was just moments ago. She couldn't wait to get her hands on some of this extraterrestrial tech.

They reached the elevator and her escort entered in the pass code. As they waited Bulma walked over to the nearest room and looked into door's small window. She interpreted part of the glowing sign on top 'Rejuvenation _'. Inside she saw a few dozen pod-like tanks that sat bolted to the floor. All were empty except for one. In it was the large female saiyan from the messdeck, Inova. She had an oxygen mask on her mouth.

For some reason this brought a smile to Bulma's face.

* * *

Bardock entered the viewing room of the training chamber and was surprised to see his eldest son, Raditz leaning against the far wall.

"It seems that the child has sowed interest in more than one saiyan." Bardock stood next to his son, there was a digital clipboard in his hand.

"Oh, I'm sure the runt has drawn himself a little bit of a crowd amongst the others. Though I think they'd prefer to see him as the black smudge on the ground." Raditz said and eyed the clipboard. "Was there anything unusual to turn up in his evaluation?"

"Quite a bit actually." Bardock handed the device over and watched Gohan and the deckhand, Grom, fight. The boy had just dodged three ki blasts, but wasn't attacking back.

"Hmph, so his power level does fluctuate." Raditz swiped through the info. "And what's all this about brainwaves?"

There was a brief pause as the two noted the deckhand's insult. Apparently Grom wasn't aware two "apes" were well within hearing range.

"The doctors say that the wave patterns and chemical layout of the human's brains have the capacity to build up and store a great amount of emotion." Bardock replied his brow slightly arching as Gohan had just made eye contact with them _through _the mirror.

"Pfft, who gives a damn about emotion. If we wanted that we'd have taken many more of their female species..." Raditz ended his sentence in a pondering tone, as if he thought that may not have been too terrible an idea.

"Well, think of it this way." Bardock said as he took back the clipboard. "Remember when you were younger and we took planet Meersh? It was during the SSJ's first tour."

"Yeah, yeah, I remember. That little turd thought he was slick."

Bardock chuckled. "Right, a hostage turned on you giving you that scar on your arm. You retaliated with a vicious, two-handed ki blast that you'd never used before."

"I made it up on the spot." Raditz chest puffed up a bit at the recollection. It had been one of his favorite attacks for several years after, he'd called it 'Meersh-Mash Cannon', but never aloud.

"And how did you feel when he attacked you?"

"I was livid of course."

"Exactly." Bardock said holding up the digital notebook. "The docs say that the anger or fear or whatever emotion we use to fuel our power up is a _puddle_ compared to the potential of these two."

"A puddle compared to what?"

"An ocean."

Gohan began to cry in the training chamber.

"Heh, is that so? Well, I hope they find out how harness that potential for _our_ good. I don't know what they can do with the woman, but I think I'll spend some time with the half-breed here." Raditz said as he pushed himself from the wall.

"Excuse me sirs."

The two elites turned to see a messenger standing in the doorway. "Prince Vegeta wishes to speak with you, Bardock sir."

Bardock nodded his response and began towards the exit. "I'll be checking on the girl after I meet with the prince."

Raditz looked back at the training room, there was excitement in his eyes.

* * *

A pile of cogs, sprockets, coils, fuses, and an innumerable variety of pieces were dumped on a metal desk in front of Bulma. Her eyes lit up at the treasure, it was better than any mound of jewels or precious metals. There were even a few scouter remains tossed in the lot. Whatever she created from this mechanical heap would determine whether she would be valuable to the SSJ or not. _Well, _she thought, _I'll just have to prove to them that I'm _invaluable. A devious smile curled up her face and she looked up at the man who had lead her here, Mustache she called him.

He blushed and swallowed. "Uh well." he stammered. Several other engineers and programmers had gathered around, they were talking amongst themselves.

Bulma realized her smile was making Mustache uncomfortable. She laughed inwardly and lessened to a simple smirk. "What will you have me make?" she asked brightly.

Mustache stuck his hands into his pockets. "You will build the best thing that you can with what you have. All of the tools are at your feet and –" Mustache nodded to her left. "You have to draw up the schematics for it as well. Old Gaffer will be the one to judge your work. You have six hours."

Bulma took a glance at the large tool chest and spotted more than a few items she had no idea how to use, yet that made her all the more eager to get cracking. "Alright Mustache, prepare to be blown away when you return! Hah!"

The well-stache'd humanoid made a gesture as if to say something, but he stopped and quickly walked away. Bulma looked up at the few others who remained, although they refused to meet her eyes, as if ashamed.

"Sheesh, not much of a lively group." Bulma sighed and looked around the engineering bay. It was filled with all sorts of broken machinery: space pods, rejuvenation tanks, freezers, large robotic suits and on the top level were the computer programmers. There was a humungous electronic centerpiece that stemmed from the bottom level and rose to the top. Bulma found that giant curio to be most intriguing, but now was the time to abate curiosity and focus. With that she got busy with the grid paper.

Boom, boom, boom! The floor rumbled beneath Bulma, but she was too engulfed in her work to notice. A bit of cursing, sweating, two broken fingernails, and 3.17 hours later, Bulma was fitting the finishing piece onto her creation. She laid a strip of solder onto her invention and melted an aluminum 'CC' onto its side.

"Done!" she announced and held a lightweight, shiny pistol in her hand.

Some engineers were within hearing, they stopped their work and headed over to her desk. One of them called out. "Get Old Gaffer!"

Within a few minutes the entire bay had circled around Bulma. Her schematics were being passed around and she was constantly asked what the pistol did. "I'll wait 'til Old Gaffer gets here!" Bulma had to shout over the crowd.

"I'm right here." croaked a voice. People moved out of the cheif engineer's way as he approached the desk. He was a stout wrinkled little thing with a whiskered snout. Old Gaffer's skin was the same olive color as the jumpsuit he wore making him look creepily naked. "Show me what you've devised there."

"Ok, can I get clear aim at the wall?" Bulma asked and pointed her pistol. The group parted, giving her a shot at the wall some twenty yards away. She turned a dial on the muzzle and pulled the trigger. Such an intense laser beam burst from the gun that it nearly knocked Bulma off of her feet. Hollers and yelps jumped from the mouths of those who were caught off guard. The crowd now gave her a wide birth. Bulma turned the dial again, took a sturdy stance, and fired. A broad blast of power scorched the wall. "If you adjust the dial again it will shoot a pulse of ki and—"

"Ki?" Old Gaffer asked. "How does this gun shoot _ki_?"

"Yes, well, you see, ki is all around us. Invisible and floating in the air." Bulma tried to remember how Mr. Popo explained it. "Every living thing gives off an amount of ki. The stronger the life form the more ki it emits. And so I used those left over parts from the scouter to not only sense the ki, but convert it into energy. Like a ki blast the saiyans use."

The group erupted with questions and sounds of amazement. Old Gaffer took the pistol from Bulma's hand and examined it. His eyes widened once he saw the 'CC' she melted on it's side. "Let me show you something." The little man lead her toward the other end of the room. "Everyone else back to work!" Green jumpsuits scurried back to their duties, the clang and clamor of the bay was alive again.

They were approaching the large computerized centerpiece Bulma was eying. "What is this?"

"That is our anti-gravity generator. You'll be well acquainted with her before long. Now, I notice the symbols on your little invention." They faced a wide white doorway. Old Gaffer pressed a few buttons on the keypad. "I've seen them somewhere else." The door slid up and revealed an enormous stack of Capsule Corp. devices. Bulma's eyes filled with tears and she smiled. _I'll definitely guarantee my place on the ship with all of this! _She felt as if her father had stowed all of it there for her, knowing she'd be needing._  
_

* * *

Grom turned around as the training chamber door opened. If he weren't already blue, the fear on the deckhands face as the elite, Raditz, approached would have been very evident.

"So kid, I see you're not too interested in your playmate here." Raditz said as he strolled up to the boy. By then Gohan had stopped his wailing and settled for a silent pout. "How about I train you? You'll learn to fight like a proper saiyan, Hm?"

"No!" Gohan sniffled and wiped his nose. "You hurt my daddy!"

"I did." Raditz stuck out his palm at Grom and without word or acknowledgment, he blasted the deckhand to ash. "And I'll hurt you too if you don't stop your whining and _fight." _

Gohan sat in a brief moment of shock. "Wasn't he your friend? Why did you kill him?" The child's voice was shaking.

"Runt, I have no friends and neither do you. It's just you and that blue-haired girl, and I don't think you're crossing her mind when she's got her on butt to save. Understand? You are alone. No one is coming to save his little boy from the big bad alien. Know why? Your daddy is dead!"

A yellow ki ball hurdled toward Raditz. He dodged it and looked back at the boy. Gohan stood with his fists at his side, his tail flicked angrily.

_Found it. _Raditz smiled and charged.

* * *

Bulma was almost skipping down the hall with an elated heart. She'd just spent the past hour explaining to Old Gaffer how each item they'd confiscated from Capsule Corp. functioned. Thankfully the old man was a quick learner so she didn't have to repeat much. Before she could get deep into capsule technology, she was summoned back up to the medical wing. Targil had some injection for her as he was continuing his tests. She was given a temporary card that she'd swipe for access to the elevators.

Halfway down the hall, Bulma heard the familiar voice of Bardock. _Maybe he was coming to check on me! _Bulma thought. _I cant wait to tell him of my progress and I am dying to hear about Gohan! _ She approached a room that had its door ajar. Bulma slowly pushed it open and peeked inside. She could only see his shadow, but his voice was clearer.

" –Frieza will take that as a slight and you don't need me to tell you this." Bardock said.

Had Bulma waited just a moment longer before entering into the room she would have turned and hastily made her way to the elevator. But she stepped in just as the other party responded.

"I don't give a damn what Friez—" Prince Vegeta stopped mid sentence.

"Bulma?" Bardock whispered as a flash of purple light caught his eye. Vegeta formed a ki ball.

"I-I..." Bulma stuttered and fell to her knees once she saw the prince. His anger erupted like a flame doused with gasoline.

"HOW LONG WERE YOU THERE?!" Vegeta roared, but he didn't wait for her reply. He lifted his hand and—

"Wait!" Bardock stood in between the two. "My liege, please have mercy on this wretched girl. She was coming to me to ask about the boy, the halfling. She did not mean to intrude... Is there some other form of punishment, my prince?"

Vegeta growled, but the ki ball dissipated from his hand. He glared from his third in command to the girl shaking on the ground. "The engineering bay is no place for a _woman_! Take her to the galley and have her scrub the kitchen deck 'til she's bleeding and broken! The only hope my servants need is in a quick death once we are done with them! Take her and we will finish this discussion later!"

Bardock bowed and helped her up. They continued to the elevator in silence. Bulma was shaking, not in fear, but in rage. _I've got to escape!_

* * *

Please Review, thanks! :]


	5. Chapter V: Unforgotten

Chapter V: Unforgotten

A/N: Sorry it took so long to get finished. The chapters get longer and longer, it's crazy! Let's see what Bulma get's into- or out of in this chap. Hope you enjoy!

* * *

_"The SSJ will be landing in five days."-Intercom announcement earlier that night._

Bulma peeked around the corner of the dim hall. The disks of light that ran across the ceilings were set low giving the passageways an eerie nocturnal feel. Bright signs above doors and elevators cast a small cone of illumination in front of them. There were thin slits in the creases where the walls and floor met that breathed a biting, chilly air onto each passerby.

Bulma tiptoed down towards the first elevator, she was grateful for the well padded soles of the white boots she'd been given. She looked up, each button on the elevator keypad glowed electric blue.

She recalled the pass-code Nappa used, placed her index finger on the button, and pressed it. The code was seven digits long, the first and fifth digit were the same. Bulma held her breath as she entered the last of it. The near silent hum of the pulley system came to life within the shaft for a moment and the seams in the elevator door lit up. Light spilled out from the mouth of the elevator onto the landing as it opened. Bulma covered her eyes and took one step forward. She glanced back down the hall, nothing but the steady exhale of the A/C. She'd never felt so distant and so singular as when she crept through those cold white halls that night. The blue haired woman stepped into the elevator and descended.

Even in the evening hours the SSJ held an amount of awe. The engineering bay was one of the great ship's many bellies, cavernous and swollen. Bulma froze in the entryway of the room. Large pendulum lamps hung from the upper level, but their light did not reach down to were she stood. She caught sight of a few programmers up top; two appeared to be glued to their screens and one was asleep. The air was thick with a rhythmic, magnetic pulse, the anti-gravity generator throbbed in the center of the bay—the ship's heart. Bulma wished her own pulse would synchronize with the machine's slow confident one, but her's was rapid and light like a hummingbird's wing. She thought of the prince's excessive hate that he had for her, how he formed that ki ball with the intent to kill her just hours ago...

Anger flared in her as she threw aside fear and walked across the room towards the door that held the Capsule Corp goods. She pressed in the password and the contents of the storage space was opened to her. Bulma looked up at the programmers, they hadn't noticed her movements.

She stared at the pile of items and the image of her father and mother came to nag her consciousness. It was not as if she didn't want to think of them, but now she needed even the furthest corners of her sanity to make her escape successful. Bulma grabbed the pistol she'd left on a box and unclasped a satchel. She plucked out one capsule from its strap then closed it up, leaving the remainder of about two dozen.

Bulma shut the storage unit, stuffed the gun in her back pocket, the capsule in the breast pocket and exited the engineering bay.

She walked the length of the hallway on the engineering floor and glanced into the door-windows. The rooms were all filled with mechanical leftovers, space suits, and just plain old junk. _Well, I thought the space-pod hangar would be on this level, but apparently not. _Bulma thought as she took the elevator back up to the medical wing and walked to her compartment.

Once inside she hid her pistol under her mattress and kicked off her boots. She withdrew the capsule she'd scavenged and clicked it. A three foot cooler burst out from its confinement. Bulma pulled open the door and grabbed a fresh tuna sandwich and bottled cola. She popped the cap on the cooler's handle and took a swig of the icy beverage. A smile curled its way around the corners of her lips.

After her snack, she plopped onto her bed and watched the dots on her ceiling dance as sleep slowly made its way to her. _I've got to plan this right. I'll do this one step at a time and with some luck, Gohan and I will be free. We'll be flying back to Chikyuu..._

She closed her eyes with that visual. The two huddle in a space-pod shooting across the black expanse with that beautiful blue planet drawing nearer. The smile that touched her lips would have remained if one fact hadn't been tugging at her mind. During her first little excursion out into the ship she had not seen one sentry or sign of a security system. This troubled her.

_5 Days Before Escape_

Bulma woke to another day with knocking on her door. She rolled over to see the cooler left sitting on her floor and she quickly stuffed it back into its capsule. She opened the door to find yet another absurd looking, totally original, alien standing outside. This one was yellow with big, bright pink spots and had somewhat of a pterodactyl head. "Here you go ma'am." It spoke in a sugar sweet voice that caused Bulma's brows to arch as she was handed a black jumpsuit. It was female.

_This must be the galactic equivalent of the Ringling Bros. Circus. _She thought and she zipped up, her yellow spandex was always worn underneath her ever-color changing jumpsuit.

Smoke and steam issued from the wide sliding door of the galley. Bulma covered her mouth with her collar and followed Dactyl through a hot, steel maze of ovens, stoves, and counters. Everyone was clad in white, those handling meats had on red aprons. _Or were they originally white? _Bulma spotted a few Chikyuu- native foods: pigs, figs, and bananas... as well as some slightly odd and highly unappetizing extraterrestrial 'items' that were being boiled, stuffed, mashed etc. From then on Bulma held her space poptarts with high regard.

At the end of the galley was a series of large double- door storage rooms, Dactyl lead her to the corner most door and opened it. Inside was a fantastic assortment of cleaning supplies— well, as fantastic as they could get.

Bulma's brows arched for the second time that morning as she spotted something like a laser powered dagger _to cut through heavy grease, of course, _a bazooka hooked up to a portable tank _to blast the grime to the next dimension, _and an ATV scrubber _four-wheel drive?! _

Bulma, for the first time in her life, looked forward to cleaning. _With this kind of artillery, I could do more then annihilate scum... _"Hit me with your best shot! Ha!" she laughed and looked over at Dactyl. The goofy looking alien somehow accomplished an apologetic expression. "What?" Bulma asked. Her eyes widened as she was given a pack of sponges and two large bottles of cleaning solution. "What am I going to clean with _this?"_

"The messdeck." Dactyl replied and placed a temporary pass-code lanyard around Bulma's neck. "Dactyl must leave now, please get straight to work."

"Kami help me." Bulma sighed. _Wait, her name really was Dactyl? _

Whether by the mercy of Kami or just her belated good luck, the messdeck was empty during her day long cleaning session. She stumbled back up to her compartment and took a lengthy shower washing off everything but her bruises. _But I didn't bleed, did I?_

Bulma figured out how to use the flat square wall clock that was attached next to her door. It's alarm went off and she leapt up from her bed to slap the silent button. She pulled on her boots, tucked her pistol in her pocket, and slung a bag she'd made from her engineering jumpsuit over her shoulder.

After a few hours sleep, Bulma was alert and ready for her second reconnaissance trip. She'd decided to try the galley/messdeck level and although she didn't find the space pods there, she came upon the storage unit that held packets of dried food. Bulma came back that night with her makeshift bag stuffed.

_4 Days Before Escape_

"Ms. Brief?"

"Ah!" Bulma cried as she hit her head on the roof of the oven she'd been cleaning. She peered over her shoulder. It was Targil.

"Did that hurt?"

"Tch-yeah."

"Excellent! Now, here, eat this!" Targil shoved a flat disc into her mouth.

"Eck! What was—"

"Not time for chatty-chat. Follow me so we can continue our exploooration of your brain!" Targil hopped ahead and Bulma, who had been kneeling all morning, struggled to keep up.

"Drink this please and have a seat over there." Her doctor waved at a long metal table where a tall glass of water sat. They were occupying one of the smaller rooms in the medical wing.

Bulma brought the cup to her lip. "What's this now?"

"Water. Drink drink!"

Parched as she was, she gulped the liquid down then climbed up onto the table.

Bulma swung her legs letting the blood flow evenly through them. If she'd been working with the engineers and programmers, she'd find these frequent visits from Targil a bit irritating, but since she was instead wiping and scrubbing her sanity away, these visits came more as a reprieve.

"I will be attaching these little bitsy dots on you and then will shoot electricity at you." Targil said with a measure of nonchalance and approached her with a sheet of round stickers.

Bulma hopped from the table and backed from the purple beaked alien. "Oh, no, no. I have no need for electrotherapy. Please, I'll escort myself back to the dungeon—eh—er galley."

"Did you feel that?" Targil shook his hands.

"Huh, feel what? " Bulma looked around. "You didn't do anything."

"So it is with this test, Ms. Brief!" he placed a hand on her shoulder and guided her back to the table. "You will not feel a thing. Now, lie back and allow me to continue."

Bulma complied and within a few minutes she was bespeckled with the sticky little dots. Targil rolled over a large ray gun thing that was propped up by tripod legs. The woman shut her eyes and thought of her next nightly scouting. _I need to find out where Gohan's been staying. _She decided to ask. "Hey, Targil can you tell—"

"Shush! We have begun testing, _I _have some questions for you. Instead of answering my questions aloud, I want you to say them in your mind. This is all for testing purposes, of course of course!"

Bulma clammed up and nodded.

"Thank you. Remember, _keep silent._" Targil, turned on his machine and it purred softly "Ok! Now, although, I can see from our tests that you've never _mated,_ I am positive you'veloved someone before. What was their name?"

_Yamcha. _Bulma thought of her goofy haired boyfriend.

"What was your favorite time or experience you've had with this person?"

_We'd gone to the park, it was a windy, cloudy day. He said he loved me._

"Where are they now?"

She exhaled. _Not here._

"If they are dead, what or who is responsible for their death?"

She didn't want to think of it, but the recollection came in flooding.

_ '"__As I was pulling his head from his shoulders, the weakling didn't even call out _your_ name."' _Bulma opened her eyes and her breathing quickened. She could feel the prince's hands gripping her face as she recalled that day. The hatred he poured out on her, was so concrete, so real. _Prince Vegeta.  
_"If this person's death were at the hands of someone, given the chance to do anything, what would you do?"

Bulma clenched her fists at her sides and visualized herself blasting off with this floating nightmare at her back, never to see the SSJ again. Though she answered. _Kill him._

_3 Days Before Escape_

She'd never been higher on the ship than the medical wing, but deep down she knew she'd have to travel upwards if not for Gohan then it would be for the space pods.

The previous day, after she had completed the electro-test with Targil, which had concluded with her peeing in a cup for test results, she was able to obtain the location of Gohan's compartment. Last night she grabbed her capsule satchel from engineering and checked the lowest level of the ship which apparently was the training chambers. Bulma told herself she needed to check out the rest of the lower half of the SSJ before heading up to see Gohan. But her real reason was that she was completely terrified of Gohan's whereabouts. He was nestled in the center of the elite's deck. To build up courage, she reminded herself that time was of the essence, and she could not risk squandering another night due to fear or anything that was in her power to control.  
The elevator stopped and opened up. Bulma saw that the hallways were just as empty as every other hall, every other night. She walked briskly and silently down towards the middle. There were very few signs on this level so not much for light, but there were dozens more rooms and glowing keypads on each. To her dismay, she saw the hallways here branched off, dissecting this level several times.

At the first crossway, she looked at her three options and chose the left by guess. Once she reached the end of this hall she took the right and stopped. _Bless Targil! He was right about the stool! _Bulma thought. Next to a door, right under a keypad was a stool; it was set there so Gohan could reach. _Sheesh, they give him with a pass-code, but not me. _Bulma approached the room and entered in the code. The door slid open. _Well, I don't blame them for distrusting me._

She walked into the room and closed the door. "Wow." She whispered. Gohan's compartment had to be four or five times larger than her own. It was well furnished and had something of a parlor room for relaxation. Straight ahead was the bedroom. Bulma found Gohan curled in a bundle of sheets. Apparently, the saiyans did not believe in blankets or maybe they didn't know the pleasure of sleeping with a soft, fluffy comforter.

Bulma sat next to the child, resting her hand on his head. A smile drew up her lips as she saw how clean the little boy kept his room. Although, near a chair where Gohan folded his blue spandex suits was a cluster of broken bits. Bulma knelt down by the heap and realized that she was looking at two scouters. One had been stomped on and the other was thrown against the wall. The scouter that had met its end under an angry child's foot was beyond repair (with her limit of tools), but she could salvage the other.

Bulma grabbed the scouter and stood up. She let her eyes rest on Gohan. _I wanted to tell him my plan, but I think I'll let him sleep. If he's been training everyday, he must be exhausted._

Back out in the hall, Bulma decided she'd better finish her investigation of this floor. She continued on heading right and felt her stomach drop as she reached the end of the hall that had nothing but more doors to more rooms. _Maybe they don't have space-pods on board ship. _Bulma began to fear. _I have been lucky enough to get food, the capsules, and find Gohan... I just need help finding— _She froze in mid thought. Someone else was up at this odd hour.

"Oh, well, I'm sure Lord Frieza will be gracious enough to hand the prince that 'cup' he so desires..." A voice came from around the corner ahead of her. Bulma had learned her lesson in eavesdropping. She backed from the corner slowly, but before she was out of hearing, she caught "... and that will surely raise a mutiny among my brutish race, but after all is _said and done_,_ I'll_ be leading the remnant to _civilization_. Heh."

Bulma rode the elevator down to her floor. _Sounds like Vegeta will be getting what he deserves, the jerk. _Although, the thought of the prince suffering gave Bulma some glimmer of delight, the fact that this 'Lord Frieza' had been talked about behind closed doors, frightened her. _All the more reason for Gohan and I to get out. Now._

_2 Days Before Escape_

Help came to her late the next day.

Bulma packed up her cleaning supplies in the storage closet. "Never again." the woman sighed. She'd been on detailed cleaning in the elites meeting room. She was on edge her entire shift. With every passing footstep, muffled conversation, and even the near silent slide of the doors, Bulma flinched and watched for someone—anyone to walk in and torment her. A few other servants were in and out of the room, but her only real visitor was Bardock. He kept to his word, the past few days the saiyan elite had checked in on her and even brought her a meal while she was scrubbing the nooks in the meeting room. Bardock told her of the small, yet steady progress of Gohan's training and bid her a good day.

Bulma stayed late, she did not want to leave any reason for the saiyans to come looking for the lazy slob charged with cleaning their room. Though her hands were raw and stinging from overuse and her body sore from being tense, she was proud of the job she'd done.

Bulma closed the storage door in the empty galley and spun around with the dream of a hot shower washed away as she saw Nappa seated on a countertop. The large saiyan's chest was bare and had a half eaten bunch of bananas at his side. Bulma watched in horror as he ripped a banana from the cluster and bit into it, peel and all; his tail was uncurled from his waist, it flickered in contentment. With every ounce of strength that had been bestowed upon her, Bulma fought the want to burst into laughter. After a moment, she over came it and said "Oh, hi, Nappa... sir."

Nappa, who, had been staring off into some interesting corner of the room, turned his attention to Bulma. "Hey there lil' one." He stuffed the rest of the fruit into his mouth. "You know, I usually come down her to grab a sandwich... then I saw these. And—" he swallowed. "These are great!"

"Yeah, they're called bananas. I ate them as a kid, but haven't had one in ages." Bulma approached the alien. Although she was cautious, she could somehow sense a calmness around him.

"Ba-na-nas, huh? Here, I know they ain't feedin' ya much." Nappa ripped off a banana.

"Oh, no, it's ok. I ate something earlier."

"Too bad." He tossed it at her, she managed to _touch_ it before it fell to the floor.

Bulma bent down and picked it up. "So... are you excited about returning home?"

"Sure am! Hell, it's been too damn long, I tell ya." Nappa had reached for his last two bananas. "As soon as we land and Prince Vegeta finishes his meeting with us, I'll be heading to the city. Gotta stretch these legs or I'll go—"He shoved another in his mouth.

_Bananas? _Bulma thought.

"nuts. Not sure how long we'll get 'til Lord Frieza arrives, but I hope he takes his time."

"Lord Frieza. Who is he exactly?" Bulma asked as she tried to break the banana peel, but her hands were too sore to grip it properly.

"The galactic overlord, of course." Nappa finished his bunch and stood up. "I'm surprised with the kind of technology you had on your planet that y'all never had much of a space... program, whatever. Well, anyways, I don't think servants have access to any windows, but if you get cleaning duty on the entry floor, ya know, next to the space-pods, you'll get an amazin' view of Vegetasei when we land in a couple days. Thankfully the meeting room has a huge window too, since us elites will be goin' over stuff all day. Well!" Nappa grabbed another bunch of bananas and tucked them under his arm. "Ba-na-nas, love 'em!" He left.

Bulma felt that she could have kissed the lug. Her long hot shower turned into a short cool one. She wanted a burst of energy as she was about to make her last nightly excursion before her actual escape. Out of her cooler came a cola and in went a slightly bruised banana. "Ah!" The fizzy beverage was just what she needed.

Bulma was up and in the halls. _I don't know why I didn't think of the entry level of the ship!__That makes sense to have the space-pods there. _She reached the elevator and entered the password she had gotten so used to. One floor down.

It'd been almost a week since she and Gohan were taken captive. With Bulma being moved from medical to engineering to the galley and with her evening escapades, she'd come to know the different halls fairly well. She pitied the other servants who must've walked the same bland passageways thousands of times over the course of the SSJ's tour. _They probably don't even get to stretch their legs on the planets that they overtake. _

And there it was, at the very end of the hall. Bulma came up to a large double-door opening and peered in. A wide and long window stretched the distance of the room and revealed a sliver of the universe. She _was _amazed at the view. It was black and blue and violet. The shining speckles were scattered across lifetimes and were bigger than an average man's imagination. The dark depth was enough to set planets on their own shelf, conceal spacecraft, and tuck secrets away.

Bulma looked inside the hangar. Like strange metallic fruit, the space-pods shone under the dim lighting. Dozens of them sat on their individual pads, one was waiting to take her home.

_1 Day Before Escape_

Everyone was hustling around that morning. It was the last full day before their arrival and they needed to prepare. Bulma noticed that coolers and freezers of food were all mobile and being pushed toward the galley's loading dock which was next to the storage room. She was asked to assist and so she did not have to clean at all that day. Even though there was much to be done, the spirit of the everyone was elevated. Bulma received a lot of help from the male workers, they'd take over pushing a large cart or heavy boxes.

'No, a pretty thing like you shouldn't be heaving this around. I'll grab it for ya.' She heard such things repeatedly throughout the day.

The galley workers took a group lunch in the afternoon. They sat on the counters and stoves and the floors and joked. Bulma retired to a corner. She was thankful that the day was speeding by, but she needed to collect her thoughts. _Capsule satchel, sack of food, Gohan, and then straight to the space-pods. _Bulma nibbled on her biscuit and saw a familiar face meet eyes with her from across the galley. It was Inova, the female saiyan.

"Hi, Inova. How are you doing?" Bulma greeted her.

Inova had a surprised look as she didn't expect this girl from Chikyuu to know her name. "Hello. I'm sorry I have not learned your name yet." She sat next to the human.

"I'm Bulma."

"Ok, Bul-ma." Inova had difficulty with the 'L' and 'M'. "I'm actually feeling great. I, uh, want to thank you for telling the docs to come and take me to the rejuvenation tanks."

"No, problem... I honestly didn't know if you were still alive." Bulma continued to eat her lunch.

"Hah, I'm definitely not the strongest warrior on the ship, but I wouldn't be taken out by scum like Guntak."

"Ew, that guy was creepy!" She thought of his lanky arms and greasy look.

"Well, you wont be bothered by that one again." Inova picked up one of the space poptart packs, opened it and bit into one. "Ugh, how can you guys eat this?"

"Haha, well, I love them." Bulma sighed. "They remind me of home."

Inova looked over at Bulma and stood up from the countertop. "Once we land, we will be occupying King Vegeta's Castle. If I'm not assigned to another ship, I'll try and get you back over to engineering."

"Oh, that would be awesome, Inova! Thanks!"

The female saiyan waved and left the galley. Bulma finished her meal and saw that Inova left the rest of the biscuit next to her. She smiled.

_Day of the Escape_

Bulma fastened her makeshift bag and tightened the strap on her satchel. She felt the weight of her pistol in her pocket and she wore the patched up scouter on her head. Bulma was ready.

It was a quick dash up to Gohan's compartment. The boy was still sleeping and rather than waking him she decided to make a carrier. Bulma took one of Gohan's spandex suits and tied the arms and legs of it around her chest and stomach, then, and very awkwardly, she stuffed the kid into the pocket she made on her back. _Goodness, you've put on some weight in the past few days._ Once Gohan was secure, she glanced at herself in the bathroom mirror. _ I look ridiculous! _She giggled silently and continued to the door.

Once on the entry level she made her way down the hall a bit more noisily than she was comfortable with, but she reached the space-pod doors without hindrance. Cool air brushed her hair back as she opened the hangar. Bulma spotted the control panel in the center of the room.

It had been nearly a week that she was on the ship. After she resolved to escape from her captors, she learned as much of the language as she could. Her fingers flew over the keyboard. She brought up a screen that showed a list of the previous destinations and she chose the most recent: S13-Raditz to Planet Chikyuu. The screen then displayed a 3D map of the solar system and the space-pod's projected course. Bulma tweaked its destination to land on the moon instead. She wanted to wait out there a few days to make sure the SSJ would not go after her, at least not right away. She had a capsule that would inflate to create a oxygenated domed house. It was made for underwater observation, but would work on their white satellite just fine.

The interplanetary navigating system accepted her request and spat out her estimated travel time 18 days 21 hours and 7 minutes. Bulma selected a space-pod and heard one pop open.

She went over to her ship and set her bags onto the pods cushioned innards.

"Buma?" The child on her back stirred.

"Gohan" Bulma whispered. "Look, I've gotten us a ship to take us home."

"Home?" his voice was groggy from sleep.

She knelt down and undid the straps. Gohan stood up and straightened his clothes.

"Why are we leaving? We can't leave." He looked at Bulma with a quizzical expression and she returned it.

"We have to leave Gohan. If we go back to Chikyuu we can find the dragon balls and wish everyone back to life. You want to see your mom and dad again, right?"

"I do want to see them, but..." Gohan stared at the ground as if he was afraid to continue.

"But what? We need to hurry!" Bulma took the child's hand and tried to lead him into the space-pod, but he stood still.

"My dad would want me to stay!"

"What?! What are you saying Gohan?" She put her hands under his armpits and attempted to life him, but he wouldn't budge.

"No, Buma. My dad wants me to stay!" Gohan sat down and crossed his arms.

Tears welled up in Bulma's eyes. She had planned so much and gotten so far, she couldn't be stopped here. "What do you mean?" She tugged at him, but was powerless to move the child. _Why am I so weak?_

Gohan met her eyes and though his voice was stern his eyes were afraid. "Like Piccolo. He was bad for a long time, but after he met daddy and they fought for a while, Piccolo became good."

Bulma thought of Bardock, Inova, and even Nappa. There was no doubt a something good and honorable about the race. Then she remembered the prince and the seething black hatred that dwelt in him. "Gohan, we can work with the saiyans once your dad is back, lets bring him back to life first and then help them."

"Actually, I could use some help right now." Bulma spun around and found the owner of the voice from a few nights ago, the saiyan who wants to subvert the prince. He wore the insignia of the elite. "Hello there beautiful, the name is Dothra, I'd love to hear more about these dragon balls."

* * *

Please Review, thanks! :]


	6. Chapter VI: Enemies

Chapter VI: Enemies

A/N: Ok, so they finally land on Vegetasei! This will kind of be the ending of act I and beginning of act II. I had to give Nappa some time, but don't worry it will pay off later. Enjoy! :}

* * *

Nappa cast a long shadow as he stood on one of the sidewalks of Vegetasei's capitol city, Saiya-jin. Towering over him, the buildings branded the night sky with their stature and neon lights. Like angry bees, hovercraft zipped around the streets chauffeuring their patrons. The saiyan elite inhaled, he savored the scent of his home planet—it smelled _alive.__It's been a long while._ Nappa thought and he stepped out into the forest of civilization.

It was customary for the elites from any ship that took harborage in Saiya-jin to make use of the luxuries afforded them. One said luxury was being toted around the city by a personal chauffeur who would pick up the high ranking officer from the port and contract their service to that individual until the officer was due to embark their ship again. Nappa had waved off all those who'd tried to gain his business; he was tired of being cooped up and preferred to hoof it.

Once in the heart of the city, Nappa scanned his surroundings and narrowed in on a restaurant. Above the building stood a 3D sign, on it was a golden oozaru reclining and patting it's belly. _Oh, I've missed this place. _Nappa smiled and entered 'The Happy Oozaru'.

_ "_What'll the master have?" asked the barkeep with his back to his customer. He was a surly looking fellow. Sea-foam green was his gritty skin; he was noseless and hairless—except for the semi-translucent fin atop his head.

"To start, I'll have a Trovish Moonbeam and a four-pound Loraxian Stack—grilled." Nappa pulled up to the bar and glanced around. "Yer place is lookin' good, Pheros." The restaurant was packed as usual; a throng of people were dancing in front of the stage where live music was being played.

Pheros turned to his patron. "You never give any o' me other menu items a chance, Nappa. You ain't old enough to be stuck in your ways." The barkeep slid the elite his drink. "But thanks, I've been doin' pretty well me-self; converted the top floor to a sky dome... that attracted the 'couple crowds' like ants, I tell ya."

"Heh, well, as the only supplier of Loraxian in the city" Nappa took a swig of his frothy, glowing libation. "I'll be visiting 'Oozaru' til my death day."

"Now, if ya could get the prince in here, I'll see some _real _growth." Pheros nodded a greeting to a tall hooded man that had just entered. "Even if he just walked past or _talked_ to the other captains."

"Na, the prince is too _classy _for this—no offense. But that's what I like about this place. Reminds me of my younger days... just a low level grunt looking for a fight." Nappa's sandwich was brought out on a large plate. He grabbed it with one hand and chomped off a hearty portion.

_I dunno what he marinates these in but—_Nappa swallowed and threw back the rest of his drink—_it's too damn good. _

Pheros was pulled away from the bar and the elite was left alone. Nappa finished his snack with a couple more bites; he pulled out a coin and tossed it onto the counter top. Before he could get up to leave the bar, another person entered.

"Nappa, you dirty bum of a saiyan!"

A wicked smile drew up on Nappa's face. "Jora! Bastard, what the hell are you doin' here?" The elite stood up and slapped the newcomer on the shoulder with a force that would make an elephant keel over. "I didn't think ya'd show your face in a place like this now that you've been promoted to an _elite."_

_ "_Hey!" Pheros shot from behind the bar.

Jora chuckled. He was a head shorter than Nappa, but was just as barrel-chested. Jora donned a bushy sprout of brown hair. He liked to claim that—by some odd, disjointed ramification from the royal family tree—he was related to King Vegeta; thus Nappa cleverly bestowed his friend with the title of 'bastard'. "Well, as soon as I saw the SSJ land I figured I'd find you here, but I have come to enjoy tossin' spirits up in the Jade Eye."

"Is that what they're calling the new place now? Since that place ain't filled with nothin' but the Overlord's cronies, I thought they'd call it 'Lord Frieza's Left Ba—"

"Bartender, gimme a Naked Asha, hold the ice!" Jora shouted over Nappa then said in a lower voice. "You've got to keep that mouth of yours shut."

"Relax Jora, I ain't sayin' anything you didn't hear before." Nappa signaled to the barkeep for another round of drink. He settled back into his seat as his friend leaned close.

"Listen, they're getting real strict around here for us saiyans. Even the _elite._" Jora chugged down his drink. "I been back on Vegetasei for a few months and can tell ya that somethin' is up. They've kept every saiyan-run ship harbored here within the past year. No one's getting' orders for their next tour and the last saiyan ship of our fleet was the SSJ... I'd be surprised if we don't get a visit from Frieza here real soon."

Nappa sloshed his glass around. He didn't particularly care for the taste of the cocktail he'd ordered, but he loved the way it glowed. "Well, Frieza wont be arrivin' for another month, but maybe he's come to his senses and realized that it's the saiyans who should be his first-in-command. Ya know, maybe we're all gettin' promoted."

The hooded man next to them snorted.

"I don't think you understand." Jora dropped his voice to a near inaudible whisper. "Among some of Frieza's men there have been rumor of _insurgence_. As if we are plannin' to knock-off Frieza and take over the galactic trade ourselves." The elite stood up from his stool and placed his payment on the counter. "I have a brief meeting with my captain, but I'm headin' up to the Fighting Rings afterward. You should check 'em out. They've got someone named, uh, Re-coome who's been there a few nights. He can put on a real show." Jora waved, "I'll see ya around" and he left the bar.

Nappa sighed and finished his drink. He'd worked with the prince since he was a kid. He was practically Vegeta's older brother, at least Nappa felt that way even though the prince outranked him in status and power. He believed that Vegeta could take the saiyans beyond there current state. He _knew _it. '_We will not be that lizard's footstool for the rest of our lives, I lay my _life_ on that promise!' _He needed to tell the prince what he heard. Even if it was just rumor and conjecture.

The throbbing music and pulse of the dancing crowd had begun to annoy Nappa. He put another coin next to his glass and headed for the exit. On the street again, Nappa turned back the way he'd come—toward the port. He glanced up at the evening sky and saw the spherical, floating bar above the buildings, the Jade Eye. It rotated and glimmered slowly. Nappa had never gone in it, but from his spot on the ground he could tell he wouldn't like it.

Music poured out onto the sidewalk as the door to The Happy Oozaru opened again. A tall, hooded figure spotted his target and followed suit. A single strand of dark green hair fell from his head.

* * *

_*Prior to landing on Vegetasei._

Capsules were scattered about the tiny room; a few spilled from the mouth of the satchel that had been hurled against the wall. The makeshift bag of space-biscuits was stuffed into the waste basket. A cold, metallic pistol lay at the foot of the bed.

Bulma had her face crushed against her pillow; tears stained her cheeks. It was an hour before the SSJ would begin it's descent on the saiyan's home planet. An awful sickening feel had found its way to Bulma's stomach and spread throughout her being like cancer. Like tearing the wings from a dove, she saw her last hope of restitution for the life she once had seized and severed. She was never to see the beauty of Chikyuu, never to feel the caress of her boyfriend, never to _breath_ as of free woman again. Bulma gazed over her pillow and thought of what went on in the hangar just hours ago.

_The saiyan approached the blue haired woman. He was tall, tanned, and well groomed—by their standards. His hair was black and pulled back into a fairly long ponytail. He had an air of self-confidence and a smirk to punctuate it. "Next time you have the urge to run around late at night, try not to use an elites pass-code." Dothra closed in on the two. "I've noticed Nappa's late night galley raids, but once I saw him access the engineering bay a few nights and then the hangar today. Well, I kind of figured it out. That and he's supposed to be sitting in on the elite's meeting with Vegeta."_

_ Bulma eyed Dothra's elite insignia and stood up in front of Gohan who was still seated on the floor. "What do you want? Aren't _you _supposed to be at the meeting as well?" She crossed her arms over her chest. Her feigned bravery was betrayed by her wavering voice._

_ "What do _I_ want? Hm, I don't think you understand your situation." Dothra ignored her latter question and continued his approach; Bulma backed up until she was against the space-pod. The elite stopped a few inches from her. Heat radiated from his body and licked her skin like solar flares from the sun. Bulma was sure he was generating an aura of ki. Dothra smiled as he towered over her. "There are powers that exist in this universe that could decimate your planet_ and _system with just a glance, girl. I happen to be employed by one of those powers. Do not think that there exists a place where you can escape wrath once its set it's sights on you. No depth or darkness in space... especially with this little secret you've been hiding... these 'dragon balls'." Dothra looked down at Gohan. "I will happily rip this child in two if you do not answer me."_

_ Gohan stared up at the elite and got to his feet. "Leave my friend alone!"_

_ Bulma let her eyes fall to the boy. "Gohan it's ok. You-uh- we are going to be ok."_

_ Dothra smiled and placed a gloved hand to the side of Bulma's cheek. He traced her jawline and stopped just under her chin. "Yes, you'll be ok." He leaned down and brought his face to hers. "Tell me! What are these dragon balls?" _

_ Bulma swallowed and tried to bring some amount of composure together. "Th-they are golden balls we collect on Chikyuu. They're hidden all over the planet and you have to collect all" She looked Dothra in the eyes. "five. Each of them have a number of stars on them, the number of stars is irrelevant, but once the five are gathered a dragon, Shenron, is summoned."_

_ Dothra raised a brow._

_ "He will grant you one wish—anything you want. After that, the balls disperse again and cannot be used for another year." Bulma closed her eyes in pain. The dragon balls were her trump card; the fragments of hope she'd been clinging to were shattered to dust and blown away by that despotic prince. "What would _Vegeta_ wish for?" She blurted._

_ Dothra cocked his head and chuckled heartily. "Oh, I'm sure he'd wish for a few more inches in height, but how would I know. He is no threat. The one whom I was referring to is Lord Frieza. If you're going to choose a side never choose the winner's opposition.. you'd be guaranteed a fast trip to the next dimension. But back to dragon balls; I'm not done with you yet." The smirk on Dothra's face became menacing. "How has a planet of such unremarkable beings come to own the powerful gift of 'dragon balls'?"_

_ Bulma hesitated. Images of Kami and The Lookout popped into her mind. It was a long, convoluted, and, if one wasn't aware of Chikyuu's history, highly unbelievable story that had more than a few inconsistencies. _

_ Dothra narrowed his eyes. "Do not _attempt _to lie to me, girl!" He spat. His large hand dropped from her chin and closed around her neck. "Tell me where they come from!"_

_ "Stop." She breathed. Dothra's grip tightened, he had a twinkle of amusement in his eye. Bulma grasped at his hand and failed to pull it away. She opened her mouth for air and to answer the saiyan brute but could do neither as asphyxiation's heavy hand clutched her. _So weak, she thought._ "St... sto..."_

_ "Buma!" Gohan shouted and punched Dothra's leg, causing him to buckle. The saiyan let go of the woman and kicked the boy across the room. Gohan slid a few yards, sprung to his feet, and faced Dothra in a fighting stance._

_ "Stop!" Bulma choked out. Her chest heaved from fear and the reintroduction of oxygen to her lungs. "I'm not trying to lie to you!" Tears had filled her eyes. She looked up at Dothra. "They come from our planet's guardian. He creates the dragon balls and allows us to use them once a year."_

_ The saiyan turned from Gohan."Well, where was the guardian when we took the planet?" _

_ She wiped her face. "I don't know." _

_ Dothra considered her for a moment. "Lets hope he wasn't among the rest of humanity during its culling."_

_ Bulma's eyes widened. "What?! I thought you just killed those who opposed you! Those who fought back... I thought everyone else was going to be _enslaved_ like me!"_

_ "Hah, no, you and the boy are the last of your race. Besides, what good would we be if we only did a half-assed job?" He pointed across the hangar where two empty landing pads sat. "We left a couple of low class warriors to finish the job." _

_ Bulma sobbed. _My parents! _She shook as this realization settled on her. _How can anyone _do_ that!

_ Dothra bent down, picked Bulma up by the collar, and pushed her against the space-pod. "You did good. I think Lord Frieza will find this information invaluable. If these dragon balls do exist, it's only a matter of time before he's granted immortality." Dothra sighed and looked up and down Bulma's body. "If you make it to the end..." He placed a hand on her waist and squeezed. A sudden look of disgust fell over his face. "And if the prince hasn't claimed you for his own, I think I'll take you for a mate." The saiyan released Bulma and turned on his heel. "You two should head back to your rooms. And don't worry, I won't be telling the prince, but" He looked back at her. "be prepared to talk before Frieza."_

The alarm rattled off in the compartment announcing their descent on Vegetasei. Bulma rolled over to her side. She couldn't take it.

Reality marches on mercilessly

to the cadence of time,

without an ounce of regard

for those who fall behind.

* * *

The throne sat in the center of the Obsidian Hall like a fang in a big, black maw. Translucent, vaulted ceilings capped the room and tree-trunk thick columns lined the walls all the way to the large arching entry where Vegeta stood. He hadn't seen the throne since he was a child and even then, during his grandfather's rule, it wasn't as packed as it was now. Restoration of King Vegeta's castle had been underway for two months. The keep was nearly finished and the crew was moving on to the adjacent towers and the bailey. It'd been Vegeta's first day on his home planet, but he could feel the change in the air; it was electric.

"My prince, when will we see _you_ seated up there?" a female voice spoke behind Vegeta. He turned and, to his pleasure, faced the beautiful saiyan captain of The Rapier, Xanda.

Vegeta smirked. "Once my father accepts my offer of early retirement." He walked down the hall; she followed.

Xanda laughed. "Well, I'd like to see his reaction when you extend that proposition to him. Where is he anyway?"

The prince shrugged, the two passed the throne and made their way down another passage. "He's been something of an adviser to Lord Frieza." Vegeta looked at her. "I am not quite sure what he does, but what I do know is that he is not here ruling as he should be."

Xanda was silent and nodded.

"It's been so long since we had our entire fleet on Vegetasei. I was surprised to see the harbor as full as it was, but..." The prince stopped in the middle of the hall with a pensive look on his face. "I will ask Lord Frieza and my father if I can be relieved of my post as captain of the SSJ and—as his heir to the throne—be made ruler over our people."

The female saiyan smiled and said in a quieter tone. "You don't need their permission, my prince. We'll follow you through the endless sea of this black universe and back again if you willed it. The men on my ship and on _every other _ship in our fleet is waiting for _the_ King to return... Lead us." Xanda bowed and left Vegeta.

The saiyan prince headed down toward the dock; he had the SSJ moored at the castle. _With the support of the other captains, I don't think Frieza will deny my request. _Vegeta thought. He was down near the lowest level of the keep. _I'll make Bardock captain and—_Vegeta stopped in mid-thought. He had walked into something. The prince looked down and saw the blue haired woman; she'd fallen to the floor.

Vegeta opened his mouth, a wave of insults and expletives were caught in his throat. The girl trembled where she sat. _Has that despicable hope of her's has finally been quelled? _He took a step toward her. Bulma looked up and Vegeta froze.

The prince felt his chest rise, but somehow he'd forgotten how to exhale. The girl's skin was pallid, her cheeks and nose were pink, and wrapped around her neck like a choker was a purple bruise—a hand print. But what affected Vegeta above everything else were her eyes. Those eyes that shimmered like starlight, that held all the depth of an ocean, the clarity of the sky, and the ferocity of a summer storm were now abandoned to an ordinary, dull blue. A tear fell from one of them and Vegeta's own eyes followed its trail down to her chin. He clenched his fist. "I warned you not cross my path again, woman."

Bulma slowly nodded and stared at his boots. "Sorry." She managed to mumble.

An alien pain had settled in the prince's stomach; it seemed to want to pull him apart. Vegeta set his jaw and knelt down. He quickly glanced over the rest of her body. _She doesn't appear to have any other wounds. _Oddly enough, he felt some relief. Vegeta placed his hands gently around her shoulders. She flinched, but didn't dare try to fight him off. The prince lifted her to her feet. _Was it wrong of me to bring this frail girl with me? _

Bulma looked up at Vegeta. Despite the fact that he was shorter than most saiyans, he was still several inches taller than her.

"I've treated you like an enemy..."he spoke. His hands were still placed on her shoulders. "but you are not my enemy." Shock quickly spread over the girl's face. Vegeta dropped his hands and turned from her.

"Then who is?" Bulma called out after him.

Vegeta looked back at the girl. The life in her eyes flickered briefly. He opened his mouth to answer.

"Prince Vegeta!" A voice shouted from the end of the hall. Bardock came running toward them. "It's Lord Frieza. He's changed course for Vegetasei; he'll be here within a week!"

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A/N: Ok, guys. I am going off to basic training for 8 weeks so it will be a while before the next update. I'm sorry, but I hope you've enjoyed it so far! I promise I will complete this story! Have a great summer! (or w/e, depending on where you are) :]

*** TO BE CONTINUED***

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Please Review, thanks! :]


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